by Jack Parker
Shawna spoke up. "Gracie found history on Amy's phone where she'd looked up a website on how the brakes work, so she knew the car would slide without them. She also found phone numbers where Amy'd called the Miata dealer and a locksmith."
"You're getting a little ahead of me," Gracie said, grinning to take the sting out. "Just a few minutes after Bobby fixed her car you came in, Ken, telling us about Maggie's death."
Ken's face lit up with understanding. "Ah, yes. One major competitor is dead and now she sees a way to get rid of the other one." He cocked his head to the side as he considered Gracie's theory. "If she can cause some small harm to every girl Jake goes out with the boy might start looking like bad luck followed him; possibly they will begin thinking he's the one doing these things. And yes, if one of his girlfriends happened to die then it would look like just a particularly nasty accident in the string."
"Thank you," Gracie said simply. "Now Amy had to figure out how to get to the fuses. She knew that road conditions would have to be bad to make it work, but she'd have wanted to set things up in advance so she could put the plan into motion when the weather cooperated."
"So she stole the key from Mrs. Pruitt's ring," Shawna said brightly.
Gracie smiled at her friend. "Yes, but not yet I don't think. Remember that Amy and Meaghan had been at the boutique on Thursday afternoon. They'd planned to do some shopping and they just stopped off there for a few minutes. I bet they went to the mall after that. I'll bet you that Amy conveniently forgot her purse or phone or something so she could borrow Meaghan's keys and go back to the car to get it. That gave her the opportunity to make sure the fuses she wanted were under the hood."
"Gracie, wouldn't it have looked funny if she'd popped the hood in the mall parking lot?" Kelly asked.
"What if some guy came along and asked if she needed help?" Shawna asked.
"True," Gracie agreed. "But all she really had to do was check the fuse box under the dash; if the ones she wanted weren't there then they had to be under the hood."
"Either way she'd need a key to get into the car later," Cheryl said. "She'd have to open the door to pull the hood release."
"Exactly. And after talking to the locksmiths she knew it'd look funny if she showed up with a wax mold wanting a new key made," Gracie said. "But I got that one figured out, too! After they went shopping they went to Meaghan's house. At least Mrs. Pruitt recognized Amy, so she must've been there recently. I don't know if she knew about Mrs. Pruitt's extra key or just prowled through the woman's purse and found it, but she took it."
"Mrs. Pruitt said it was on one of those valet things," Shawna added. "So it would've been quick to take it."
"So now she's all set, and just waiting on the weather," Gracie said. "She didn't want to just pull the fuses right then because something could've happened without her to help it along, and it might not turn out the way she wanted. With Meaghan dead, that is. But it rained the very next day – and we had an away-game. Amy carried on about taking the 'short-cut' home, but she must've suggested that on purpose. She told us she'd gone out to her car to get an umbrella when it starting raining during the game…"
"But that's when she pulled the fuses out," Ken said. "It was dark and security wouldn't be watching the parking lot too closely during the game. She tells us this tale of pulling over to take a phone call, but that was so she could get behind Meaghan's car. By the way I checked her cell phone records, and she didn't get any calls that evening. She deliberately bumps the car, and then very publicly admits to it so she not only appeared innocent of anything more than an unfortunate lapse of judgment but her friends would feel sorry for her."
He turned again to study Amy. The girl was crying softly, but whether from remorse or being caught – or the realization that Jake wasn't interested in her – he couldn't tell.
"They were out in the boonies on a lonely stretch of state highway. She dutifully called 911 to report the wreck, but then quite coldly unlocked Meaghan's door and opened the hood to replace the fuses," Ken continued. "By the way, I did check with the paramedics and they said the hood was down and the doors locked. Why did you ask about that?"
"When we went to see Meaghan in the hospital she mentioned seeing the hood fly open during the wreck," Shawna explained.
"We just thought she was rambling, because of the drugs they'd given her," Gracie said. "But later I started wondering if maybe she had seen the hood up when Amy was putting the fuses back. She was hurt and in pain and things probably weren't very connected for her."
"I'm glad for her sake that she didn't realize what was happening," Ken said. "Anyway, the plan was that we'd give the fuse box a quick once-over, see the fuses in place, and not give it a second thought. It would look like a terrible accident and nothing more. Fortunately for us, she dropped one. She knew there were extras in the lid, but either her boyfriend hadn't mentioned the color-coding scheme or she just couldn't see in the dark. She used the wrong amperage for the brakes. And her fingerprints were on both fuses and the lid of the fuse box."
"So that's how you figured it out!" Gracie said in amazement. "At least you finally believed me."
"The fingerprints alone wouldn't necessarily have proven guilt," Ken told her. "She could've claimed that, knowing about the fuses, she was just using her knowledge to help a friend out of a similar jam. We wouldn't have questioned the sticky residue on the dash either, where she put a piece of tape over the warning light so Meaghan wouldn't see it."
"There's one more thing," Gracie said. "After the wreck, at the hospital Amy volunteered to guard Mrs. Pruitt's purse. She did that so she'd have the opportunity to put the key back on her ring."
At last Amy lifted her head to look at her accusers. "Boyfriend?" she asked quietly.
Gracie looked at her with sadness. "Yes, Amy. Bobby really likes you, and as far more than just a friend to hang out with. If you hadn't been so blinded by Jake's looks and talent you could've had a good relationship with Bobby."
"He didn't help me," Amy said, shaking her head. "He didn't have anything to do with this, just ask him! I don't want him to get into trouble, he's my friend."
"I believe you about that, too," Ken told her gently. "I will talk to this Bobby, but I think the only thing the poor kid's guilty of is liking the wrong person."
"Here's where you tell us your side of the story, Amy," Gracie said in as kind a voice as she could muster.
Amy sighed, a look of utter devastation on her young face. "You're right, I did it all just like you said. It was fun watching the other girls get hurt, the way I was hurt every time they went out on a date with Jake. If they'd seen the pattern and refused to date him, so much the better. If it makes any difference, I didn't really want to kill Meaghan; I just hoped she'd lose the baby so Jake wouldn't have to marry her. But you got one thing wrong, Gracie."
"I did?" Gracie sounded more curious than wounded.
"Brittney wasn't the target of the antifreeze in the park," Amy stated.
"Huh? She wasn't?" Kelly asked.
"I saw you talking to that cop…" Here she turned to look at Ken with a flash of hatred in her eyes. "And I was afraid you might've figured out some of it and would tell him. I was trying to scare you off. Anyone that knows you very well knows you take that path through the park on the way home. It was just luck that Brittney took the same path; I didn't know she would."
"Gracie, I told you to be careful!" Ken said.
"Yeah, but that was after I'd taken that spill," Gracie replied.
Ken stood up and unlocked the handcuff from the table leg. "With any luck you guys can catch the end of the game. The score was tied when I came in right before half-time; maybe Jake will make the winning run and your team will remain undefeated. I'll take Amy to the station and book her."
Fresh tears began running down Amy's face. She dropped her head into her hands and muttered, "I won't be there to see it. Oh, Jake! After all I did for you will you even come visit me in jail?"
&nb
sp; CHAPTER 56
Saturday morning dawned cool and drizzly, which suited everyone's mood perfectly. Meaghan Pruitt's funeral was held at 10:00 that morning. Though the sanctuary was large, the church had had to put folding chairs in the aisles to accommodate the crowd; most of the Junior class and all the school staff were there. Most of the young people had never attended a funeral before, but felt it was the last thing they could do for their friend. They were respectfully silent during the service, though many voices broke when they stood to sing hymns.
Gracie leaned her head on Kelly's shoulder. "Oh, they're going to do the slideshow now. I hate those things! They make me cry worse than anything the preacher said."
Kelly put his arm around her shoulders and patted her arm. "Go ahead and cry, Gracie. But look at the pictures, and remember Meaghan."
The slideshow began, complete with sappy music, and Gracie was hardly the only one to sob. Having expected this, the ushers had placed boxes of tissues in all the pews and people began passing them around as needed.
"Meaghan would hate for us all to see that one," Gracie whispered. The giant screen displayed a 4-year-old Meaghan dressed as a tiny Princess Leia.
"I think it's cute," Kelly whispered back.
"It's just that they seem so personal, like only her family should see some of them," she protested, albeit feebly.
"And you don't think her mother would open up those albums to you if you went to visit her?" he asked facetiously.
Gracie made a wry face and continued to watch in silence. She was surprised to see herself in a few on the later photos. She made a mental note to see if she could get copies of those, then realized that the disc would probably be handed around and copied endlessly. At last the service was over and people began solemnly filing out past the coffin, paying their last respects and saying goodbye to a friend.
Most of the mourners followed the family to the cemetery for the graveside service as well. Gracie and her friends hung back on the edge of the crowd, allowing church members and Meaghan's closer friends a better view. Kelly wanted to leave when the thankfully short service was over, but Gracie insisted on going through the line to speak to Meaghan's parents.
Cynthia Pruitt wore a stylish black suit, but her eyes were red and swollen from crying. She looked at Gracie as if she couldn't recognize her. Steve Pruitt was as well-dressed as ever, yet he stared straight ahead at nothing.
"It's Gracie, Mrs. Pruitt," Gracie said softly. "I am so very sorry that this happened." Having issued the commonly-accepted condolence phrase she paused, unsure of what, if anything, she should say next.
Cynthia focused on her face and something seemed to click; she grabbed Gracie's hand. "Gracie, Dear, thank you. Thank you for bringing my daughter's killer to justice."
Gracie blushed a little. "You're welcome."
Steve stood up and turned to face her. "It won't bring her back, she's in Heaven now. But justice has been done, and no other families will have to suffer from that poor deranged girl's actions."
He reached a hand out to shake Gracie's, then suddenly threw his arms around her and began sobbing uncontrollably. Gracie was shocked, but realized the man needed to let his grief out. Awkwardly she put her arms around him as well, and patted his back. Cynthia stood, her legs wobbly from emotion and exhaustion. Gently she substituted her body into her husband's embrace and let Gracie back away.
"Steve, we must help that girl," she told him through her tears. "We must show her that God loves her despite what she's done. Everyone else will revile her, but we can show true Christian spirit in doing this."
Tears still running down his cheeks, Steve looked at his wife first in surprise and finally in loving agreement. "Yes, who better?" he asked.
Gracie took the opportunity to walk away, genuinely moved by the scene she'd just witnessed. Personally she didn't think she could ever forgive Amy for all she'd done, but she couldn't fault Steve and Cynthia for trying. She rejoined her friends at the edge of the thinning crowd and explained what had happened. As she talked the sun broke through the clouds, warming the day and turning the last few raindrops still clinging to the grass into dazzling crystals.
"Can we go home now?" Kelly asked. He wiggled his tie in a manner suggesting he'd like nothing more than to take it off immediately.
"Wait!" Shawna said. "That's Jake talking to Meaghan's parents. I wanna see what happens."
"Yeah, let's get closer so we can eavesdrop," Cheryl suggested.
Gracie shook her head. "Give them some privacy, will ya? It's none of our business."
They all turned to watch. Jake's face was solemn as he spoke to Steve and Cynthia, but whatever he said was brief. He shook hands with both of them, but it didn't look very cordial. As he walked away Gracie supposed that Ken had explained things to them, including Jake's involvement, but somehow she doubted that they truly believed that he would've been their son-in-law. Perhaps that was for the best, now.
Kelly began edging away from the scene but the three girls stayed where they were, somehow feeling that there was something else to be done before they left. Brittney and Andrea walked up to the group.
"I still can't believe Amy tried to poison me!" Andrea said. "I went out with Jake maybe twice, and dated other guys too. Honestly, I didn't think he liked me all that much."
"Well, when the hottest guy in school asks me out, I'm not gonna turn him down," Brittney said. "Even if he was really more interested in getting a tutor," she added with a wry grin.
"I suspect Jake will have a little harder time finding dates now," Shawna said with a small laugh.
"Are you kidding?" Kelly asked in amazement. "He'll be more popular than ever!"
Bobby Summers walked by, almost unrecognizable in a sports jacket and tie.
"Bobby!" Gracie yelled after him. She beckoned for him to join them and he did so apparently reluctantly.
"I'm surprised you came," Cheryl said. "Er, but glad. It was very nice of you to do it."
"Bobby, I am so sorry," Gracie said. "You must feel terrible. If it helps any at all, Amy swears you had nothing to do with her schemes."
Bobby shrugged his shoulders rather helplessly. "Thanks. I guess I shouldn't be surprised; nobody seems to like me."
"That's not true, Bobby!" Shawna protested. "It's just that…well, us girls don't know anything about cars so we don't know how to talk to you."
"I don't know anything else," he replied. "My folks don't have a lot of money for fancy electronics so I don't know nothin' about music and video games, and I gotta help Dad at his garage."
"You're learning a trade," Andrea insisted. "Someday you'll own that shop yourself. Besides, I've seen that car of yours; it's got far more style than the new ones, and I bet when you get it painted you'll choose something great like those fire pictures."
Bobby chuckled. "They're called 'flames'," he told her. "Mustangs look better with graphic art, but that's expensive unless you do it yourself."
"I can design it, if you can paint it!" Andrea replied.
Bobby perked up. "Really? You'd help me?"
"Sure, it'd be fun," Andrea said.
"I'd help, too," Brittney said. "Except I can't draw a straight line with a ruler. But I'm pretty good at organizing; maybe I could help plan things out, you know with the money and stuff you'll need."
Bobby looked at both girls with suspicion. "You're just trying to be nice to me, because of Amy and all."
"Maybe just a little," Brittney admitted. "But Bobby, I think you have to be pretty smart to know how to put all those pieces together to make a car run, and I like smart guys. I'm tired of guys being jealous of me because I get good grades."
"Wish I had that problem!" Andrea said. "But seriously, Bobby; I've never taken on an art project the size of a car, and I'd love to try. And I've got lots of music on my iPod, so you can learn what's popular."
"And then decide what kind you really like," Brittney threw in.
"Please, can we go now?" Kelly asked pl
aintively.
"How about we all go for ice cream?" Gracie asked ingenuously.
"You've got my vote!" Andrea said. "But I get to ride in the Mustang."
Kelly and Bobby simultaneously reached for their ties, loosening the knot and pulling them off. Gracie took one last look at the crowd.
"Uh-oh, let's go now," Gracie said. "Ken's heading my way and somehow right now I don't want to think about anything to do with crime."
* * * *
THE END
THE PART 3
DEAD SECRET
CHAPTER 57
Thursday
"But Mo-om," Gracie Greene said into her cell phone. At 18 years old her voice no longer had the whiney quality it had once held. She wasn't trying to sweet-talk her mother into allowing her to do something questionable, but rather was simply explaining the circumstances.
"Yes, Mrs. Rodgers is a teacher, but we're not going to a party," she said, referring to last year's party at a teacher's house that had ended with the woman's death and her own involvement in discovering the killer. "It's a family meeting at her aunt's house. They're discussing something about a probate hearing tomorrow for her brother's Estate."
"And just why do you need to be involved?" her mother, Clarissa Wilson, inquired.
Gracie grinned, knowing her mother would 'hear' it even if she couldn't see it. "Perhaps I should've said the aunt is more of a wicked step-mother."
"I take it there's no love lost between them, then," her mother replied. "But why do you need to go?"
"She asked me to," Gracie replied simply. "She said I was a smart girl and might pick up on something she wouldn't."
"Gracie, dear, you're not a lawyer!"
"No, but it never hurts to have another set of eyes and ears," she replied. "I think she really just wants to have a friend there to support her and she's between boyfriends at the moment. She thinks the aunt is trying to keep all the money for herself, and naturally the woman's children are on her side."